


David and Goliath

by honey_wheeler



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 10:12:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6234619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_wheeler/pseuds/honey_wheeler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya knows it's absolutely terrible for her reputation that every time he hauls her around, she lets him do it with nothing more than strident complaining, but she can't help it. It's easy to forgive him manhandling her while drunk at parties when it just reminds her of him manhandling her in bed. As much as she should hate that, she <i>really</i> fucking likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	David and Goliath

**Author's Note:**

> For the valar_morekinks kinkmeme prompt: Just some sexy stuff with Gendry lifting Arya around/being very tall and big, and Arya being indignant but also super turned on.

It's always annoyed her, how small she is. Everyone's always touching her head and laughing when she can't reach things on high shelves, and -worst of all- picking her up. Arya's been swooped up into more arms and slung over more shoulders than she can count. The worst of it is that it's usually big drunk guys doing it, crowing about how she barely weighs anything. It's happened a lot less since she started doing martial arts, at least, and laid a few guys out for touching her, but sometimes she's caught off guard. And sometimes it's someone she can't destroy. Like Hodor (too strong for her) or Uncle Brandon (God, the disappointment on her father's face that one time she did).

It's just as irritating when Gendry does it. It's also...something else. Arya knows it's absolutely terrible for her reputation that every time he hauls her around, she lets him do it with nothing more than strident complaining, but she can't help it. It's easy to forgive him manhandling her while drunk at parties when it just reminds her of him manhandling her in bed. As much as she should hate that, she _really_ fucking likes it.

He's got her over his shoulder right now, the beer in his hand sloshing over her jeans where his wrist is hooked over the back of her thigh. He's ignoring her shrieking at him, though, too busy laughing and posturing for Tom and Anguy, the wankers.

"I'm going to bite you!" Arya threatens. Her hair dangles in her face, but one hand is caught against his chest and she's using the other to prop herself up against his back so she can keep some semblance of dignity. God, she'd really love to bite him right now. She'd like to bite his shoulder, his collarbone. His arse. Fuck, but he has an amazing fucking arse.

"Don't you dare," Gendry laughs in response. He must really drunk, because he uses his free hand to give her a resounding smack on her own arse. She can see Tom and Anguy's eyes go as big as saucers and for the sake of her reputation she screeches in outrage, but she kind of wants Gendry to do it again. At least she didn't moan.

Then she remembers him fucking her the night before, standing in the middle of his studio flat with her knees hooked over his elbows and her arms around his neck as he held her like she weighed nothing, and she _does_ moan, though she's able to cover it up as a sound of irritation. He'd carried her over to his bed like that -still moving inside her, for fuck's sake, like he was some sort of demigod- and tossed her onto the mattress, then turned over her roughly, dragged her bum up, and started in on her all over again. She's still deliciously sore from it. She almost hates herself for hoping for a repeat performance while she's slung over his shoulder like a sack of flour, but she just can't help it.

The world spins as he pulls her back over his shoulder and hitches her legs up to hold her like she's a bride being carried over the threshold. "Hiya," he grins when she can look him in the face again. A flush mottles his cheeks. Anyone else would think he's simply had too much to drink, but Arya can see the way his nostrils flare as if he's breathing in the scent of her, and how his eyes are so dilated they're nearly black. He wants her. Thank fucking _god_.

"You know I hate it when you do that," she snots, fixing him with her meanest glare. He sees right through her like she's a pane of glass.

"Mm. S'pose I'll have to make it up to you then, won't I?"

Arya shivers at the promise in his words. "You better," she says."


End file.
